


a secret weapon of sorts

by bringingglory



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Cheek Kisses, Domestic Fluff, Ed being a dad, Ed kind of being a gremlin, F/M, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Kissing, Post-Promised Day, Winry losing her mind over how dumb her husband is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28032099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringingglory/pseuds/bringingglory
Summary: Five times Ed kisses Winry to get out of trouble and one time he gets caught.Inspired by the Simple People OVA where instead of giving Winry earrings to get out of trouble, he gives her kithhsehshs instead
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Comments: 18
Kudos: 79





	a secret weapon of sorts

It had been a long time since Ed had truly fucked up his automail. After all those years of getting a wrench to the head, he’d decided his skull had seen enough trauma for a lifetime, and he really tried to be careful with his leg now. Honestly. 

But he was Edward Elric, after all, and he could only last so long.

Married or not, Ed continued to face the full force of Winry’s wrath. She never hesitated to throw a wrench at his head or yell at him until his ears hurt. Even now, his skull started to ache at the thought as he looked at the exposed wires of his leg and the metal plating laying a few inches off to the side.

“I’m so fucked…” He muttered.

Winry had gone into town earlier that morning to get some automail parts, leaving Ed to his own devices at the house. The refrigerator had been making odd noises since he’d woken up that morning, so he thought he’d take it upon himself to fix it.

His first instinct, of course, was to clap his hands together and place them on the refrigerator to fix the parts inside with alchemy, but that didn’t work. So he tried the next best thing.

He kicked it.

With his metal leg for the extra _oomph._

And then something crunched and the metal plating along his shin popped off.

 _“Fuck,”_ he’d said. And then he dragged himself to the corner of the kitchen farthest away from the front door to prolong whatever time he had left before Winry got home.

Long ago—or rather, a few years ago—he and Al would have gone to a jewelry store to buy a new pair of earrings to appease her. It was like their secret weapon. She’d just gotten her ears pierced after all, so of course she’d get excited over a new pair—hopefully excited enough to go easy on Ed. What was another broken arm when you got such a nice gift, right? But after Ed and Al had found out that she pierced her ears with every new pair she got, they scrapped the idea.

Ed didn’t think Winry would make more holes in her ears now, but she always had that capacity to surprise him. And either way, he didn’t have the time to run off somewhere to get her jewelry.

“What do I do?” Ed muttered.

He could make her something—come up with some kind of gift to mollify her. He could write a quick card or gather some flowers from the yard to make a bouquet or maybe he could just grovel at her feet. If he could just _think_ of something—

“Ed! I’m back!”

_Fuck._

Ed shot to his feet. He looked around frantically for the metal plating and spotted it on the ground a few feet away from the refrigerator. He snatched it up a second before Winry walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Ed,” she said amiable, setting her toolbox on the ground with a muted _THUD._ “Did you hear me come in—?” 

He froze when her eyes landed on him, rooting him to the spot. A sense of cold dread crept up the back of his neck as her eyes slid down from his face to the exposed wires along his shin. Something in her eyes flashed when she caught the metal plating poorly hidden behind his back.

He swallowed.

“Ed…” Her voice was deathly quiet. “What did you do?”

“Oh, hi, Winry,” he said lightly. “I, uh, didn’t hear you come in. How was your trip to town?”

“ _Edward—”_

He rushed forward. “Have I ever told you that you’re the greatest wife in the world? I’m so lucky to be married to a wonderful and talented and patient mechanic—”

“Don’t change the subject. Edward Elric, if you don’t tell me what the _fuck_ you did to your leg right now—”

“Wait, I—” His mind raced but he couldn’t think of anything. He was out of time. “I just, uh, don’t get mad—” Her eyes flared with fury and he quickly threw his hands up in surrender. “Just—before you kill me, I want you to know that I’m grateful everyday that I married you.”

“Tell me what happened to your leg, Edward.”

He was going to die. She was going to kill him and he would die without getting to say goodbye to his children.

Well, if he was going to die, at least he could kiss his wife goodbye.

He reached out and wrapped her into a hug. Her arms hung like deadweights at her sides, but, surprisingly, she didn’t push him away. “Edward—”

He dropped a kiss on top of her head and said, “The fridge was making weird noises, so I, uh, may have kicked it with my automail leg and it...you know.”

There was one terrifyingly long beat as he waited for her to shove him back and bury a wrench in his skull, but then, surprisingly, her arms came up and wrapped around his back. He peered down at her curiously as he felt her face shift against his chest.

“Well, what can you do?”

It took a second for his brain to register that he was still alive. He pulled back and saw Winry looking at the ground, her face a curious shade of pink.

This didn’t make sense at all.

“You...you’re not—” _Going to kill me? Hit me with a wrench?_ “Are you mad?”

“Of _course_ I’m mad,” snapped Winry. “You’re so stupid! On what planet did you think kicking something with your automail was a good idea?” She sighed. “But whatever, I married you so I’m stuck with you. Just don’t do anything stupid again.”

“Uh, yes, ma’am.”

Winry grabbed his arm and lightly tugged him forward. “Come on. Let’s go fix your leg. _Again._ ”

“Uh, right.”

He watched her pick her toolbox up from the ground and then move out of the kitchen. He followed her wordlessly to the workshop, completely unsure of what to do. She sat him down on the couch before going to pace around the room, grabbing screws and other tools and whatever else a mechanic needed to fix her husband’s leg.

“I thought you’d be more mad,” he finally said.

“Well,” said Winry, making her way back to the couch. “It can’t be helped sometimes.”

Those words sounded familiar, but why? A memory tugged at the edges of his mind, the memory of he and Al offering her earrings to halt her tirade, the begrudged acceptance of them, one less headache that day.

He had a theory.

Winry knelt down in front of him, pulling the padded stool over to prop his leg up. “If you _want_ me to be more mad, I will—”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek before pulling back.

He watched in real time as her face flooded red.

Oh.

_Oh._

A light went off in his head.

Ed grinned. “Sorry for breaking my leg. And thank you for fixing it.”

She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head, looking down to hide to color in her cheeks. “Whatever.”

He was suddenly glad that she looked away from him because now she couldn’t see the grin slowly spreading across his face.

Ed had found a new secret weapon.

* * *

Ed liked to think he was a good father. Or at least, he tried to be. He tried not to think about Hohenheim often and the way he and Al had been raised, but if he had learned anything about being a parent, he had learned from his mom. So he tried to make a conscious effort to spend more time with his children. He listened to them, showed enthusiasm in all their games, and didn’t let them feel lonely.

Nina was still a baby who spent most of her days sleeping or crying, but Milo was a wild little toddler, running around the house and messing up the walls and always making a mess. It gave Ed and Winry massive headaches, but then Milo would look up at Ed and blink those sleep amber eyes at him and some mushy hidden thing inside him would melt.

Ed tried to be a good parent.

Sometime in the afternoon after Ed put down Nina for another nap, he felt a tiny tugging on his pant leg.

“Daddy?” Milo tilted his small blond head up to look at his father. “I’m bored.”

And there was that paternal instinct, the tug in his chest that spread a grin wide across his face. He swept his arms down and lifted his son into the air. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we?”

Milo giggled as Ed jostled him around.

“You little monster. You’re bored?” He tossed Milo over his shoulder. “Guess I have to fix that.”

Milo squealed in delight as Ed carried him out the back door. When they were far enough out in the yard, Ed dropped him on the ground and Milo gave him a toothy grin. 

For the next few hours, Ed indulged in whatever Milo wanted to do—including, but not limited to: making mud pies, collecting worms, climbing trees to scout for dragons, collecting rocks, and making dandelion bracelets for Nina.

“For her birthday,” Milo had said.

Ed decided not to point out that the bracelets would probably wilt before her birthday. 

Finally, when the sun began to dip below the horizon and the edge of the sky started to turn orange, Ed decided they should probably head back.

“Alright, Milo, we should go back inside. It’s probably dinner time.” 

_“Noooooo,”_ whined Milo. “I want to keep playing.”

 _“ Milo,_ ” said Ed, putting on his Dad Voice. 

He pouted but stood up, and when he took a step forward, Ed realized his mistake.

Dirt caked Milo’s knees and shins, crawling up the edges of his shorts. His fingers were dark from digging through the soil and mud clung thick to the edges of his shoes. There was another smudge of dirt on his face and grass stains smeared the back of his shirt green.

 _Fuck,_ he thought. If any of that got into the house, Winry would be _pissed._

He shot a glance at the house, saw the kitchen lights glowing faintly through the window, and frowned. Winry had already started dinner, then. So, the question was: how to get Milo back into the house without her noticing?

“Hey, Milo, we’re going to go through the front door, okay?”

“Okay.” He paused. “Why?”

“Why not?” Ed grabbed Milo’s hand and started walking. “Sometimes trying new things is fun. Keeps life interesting.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Milo look up at him in confusion, but Ed was too nervous thinking about Winry to acknowledge it.

If he wanted to get Milo into the house without leaving any damning evidence, he’d probably have to take the shoes off first and leave them outside. Milo’s socks looked relatively clean so he could probably just walk through the house as long as he didn’t touch anything. Ed would have to rush Milo into the bathroom and quickly wash off all the dirt so he could get his son into clean clothes and head downstairs to have an ordinary dinner with Winry. After that, he would have to sneak away to wash the mud off the shoes and put them back near the door before Winry noticed, but if he did that all by morning then Winry would be none the wiser—

Ed stopped when they reached the front door. He steeled himself and turned to Milo.

“Okay, Milo, so I’m going to take off your shoes now but we’ll leave them outside. And then because your socks are clean, I want you to follow me through the house, but don’t touch anything—”

The door opened.

“So _that’s_ where you went.”

Ed stiffened. Slowly, he turned his head until he could see Winry’s face and the tight smile pressed into her lips. She leaned casually against the doorway, one hand cocked on her hip and wooden spoon dangling like a weapon from the other.

“Oh, hi, Winry. What, uh, what are you doing here?” _At the front door?_

She ignored him. “Milo, can you tell Mommy why you’re covered in dirt?”

“Daddy took me outside to play,” beamed Milo.

Her eyes slid to Ed’s, slow as a predator on the prowl. “I see. That’s interesting.”

Ed swallowed.

“Milo, will you go wait in the bathroom for me so I can wash the dirt off?”

“Okay!” Milo slipped out of Ed’s grasp as he dashed past Winry into the house.

“Milo, wait—!” He winced as Milo disappeared into the house, trailing little muddy footprints as he went.

When their son had gone, the smile dropped from Winry’s face.

“Edward…” She growled. “Why did you think it was a good idea to let Milo play _in the mud?”_

“He was bored! I wanted to spend time with him—” He stopped when he saw Winry’s jaw tighten. “Okay! I admit it wasn’t my _best_ idea, but—”

“Edward Elric, I am going to _strangle_ you—”

Ed panicked. He rushed forward and planted a kiss on her cheek before pulling back to watch her expression. “I promise I’ll clean up the mud, please don’t be mad.” If he could calm her down enough, maybe he would survive the night.

She glared up at him, but then her eyes began to soften at the corners. Finally, she sighed. “Fine.”

He bit back a sigh of relief. “I’ll help you clean up Milo, too.”

“Clean up the mud first,” she glowered.

He paused for a moment before deciding to press his luck. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek again. Just in case.

Winry shoved him away immediately, but he didn’t miss the lovely pink blooming slowly across her face.

“Go clean the floor, Ed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Winry rolled her eyes and turned away from the door to head back into the house. When she disappeared back into the kitchen, he finally let a grin spread across his face.

Perhaps this new secret weapon was more effective than he thought..

* * *

Moonlight poured gently into the room through the window and spilled across his research notes as he looked over them the umpteenth time. The dim yellow light from his lamp provided little visibility, but Ed continued to hunch over his desk and scribble furiously in a nearby notebook, even as his eyes started to ache.

Eventually, when it felt like his eyelids hung heavier than weights, he finally loosened his grip on his pen and rose from his chair.

 _What time is it?_ He distantly wondered.

Ed yawned and decided he didn’t have enough mental energy left to figure it out.

He shut off the lamp and shuffled out of the study. Ed stepped into the hall and held his arms out to feel his way through the dark, running his hands along the wall until he felt the familiar wooden grooves of his bedroom door. He cracked the door open and tried not to let too much light seep in.

Winry was a small lump on the bed with her back to the door. Despite his best efforts, the dim light from the hall cut a diagonal line through the room, illuminating the pool of her blond hair spread out across _his_ pillow. He let a half amused grin turn the corner of his mouth up before he shuffled into the room and closed the door.

When he slid under the covers, the heat of the blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon. He carefully brushed her hair off his pillow, marvelling briefly out how soft it was before laying his head down and closing his eyes.

 _“Edward,_ ” Winry growled softly.

“Oh.” _Fuck._ “You’re awake.” 

She let out a quiet sigh. “What the hell were you doing?” Sleep dulled the usual bite in her voice.

“I was looking over my alchemy notes.”

She snorted softly. “Of course you were.”

Ed didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed silent. He thought that was the end of it, but then her tone sharpened, “Dumbass, do you know how late it is? I’m meeting a client at _eight_ tomorrow.”

He bit back a curse. She was tired, clearly, and he had hoped it would save him, but she was apparently not tired enough to not yell at him.

“You’re so lucky I don’t have my toolbox with me.”

He winced. He _did_ feel a little guilty for keeping her up, even before that threat entered her sleep-logged voice. Still, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his chest before pressing a kiss to hear bare shoulder. “Sorry for keeping you up,” he mumbled.

There was a beat of silence, but Ed noted—not without a small hint of satisfaction, and maybe smugness—that a little knot of tension unraveled from her shoulders. 

When she didn’t push his arm away, he let himself start to smile into the dark.

“You’re still an idiot,” said Winry.

He kissed the back of her head. “I know.”

She sighed and grabbed the hand that was wrapped around her torso, pulling it up until it rested near her chest, near her steadily slowing heartbeat.

“Stop kissing me,” she yawned.

He pressed one more kiss to her skin, closer to her temple.

“Stupid.”

He fell asleep with a grin on his face.

* * *

“I can’t believe you forgot the umbrella,” muttered Winry.

“Geez, I’m sorry!” Ed cried. “That _you_ were the one who rushed out the door—”

“Oh, so it’s _my_ fault _you_ forgot the umbrella?”

“Maybe it is!” Ed charged forward, trying to shield his face from the rain pelting into his eyes.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” she threatened.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Ed stripped off his jacket and held it up above their heads in an attempt to make some sort of shitty, makeshift umbrella. 

The path was turning to slush beneath their feet, mud slipping under his boots as they quickened their pace. The thick curtain of rain extended miles ahead of them and there was no telling how far they were from the house.

Ed blinked the rain out of his eyes, looking around frantically for any place they could stop. When he spotted a large tree a few feet away, he nodded at Winry. “There!”

She hoisted her bags up and ran. Ed hurried to keep his jacket over the both of them, and when they finally reached shelter under the canopy of the tree, he lowered his arms and sighed.

“At least the kids are with the neighbors,” said Winry, dropping her bags on the ground. “We’re not getting home anytime soon.”

“Yeah…” He looked up at the gray clouds hanging thick in the sky and sighed. They certainly showed no signs of leaving anytime soon.

Beside him, Winry groaned. “The scrap metal’s all wet.”

Ed looked down at the raindrops tracing down a sheet of metal. The bags she had been carrying were soaked, too. She’d have to be thorough in wiping down the metal, otherwise the acid rain would make it corrode faster and rust.

“It’ll be fine. We can dry it when we get back.”

“Why did you have to forget the umbrella,” she muttered.

Irritation flared in his chest. “I already said I was sorry,” he grumbled.

“It doesn’t change the fact that we’re stuck out here for who knows how long just _wasting_ time!”

“Geez, I get it!” He huffed. “Listen, do you know how stressful you yelling at me was—”

“Oh, it was stressful? _Please_ tell me about how stressful it was for you to take _forever_ to get ready so we could leave and back before the storm started, and how _stressful_ it was for me to ask you to get an umbrella while I juggled three different bags and a materials list _this_ long for the next two weeks of projects.” She held her hands out vaguely for emphasis, and then looked down at her bags of scrap metal with enough despair that it sent a ripple of unease through him.

He reached for her shoulder. “It’s not that big of a deal…”

She jerked away. “‘It’s not that big of a deal,’ he says. It’s not like I have backorders for five different clients that I couldn’t start working on until I got these materials, or three different maintenance checks to do tomorrow, or a _huge_ project I have to do by Tuesday that I’m _severely_ behind on—”

“Oh.” And Ed realized all at once how stupid he was being. “Those arms you have to make—”

“Yes, the arms I have to make,” she sighed. “And this metal was supposed to be cut this afternoon so I could make adjustments to the designs _tonight_ for the reshaping in the _morning_ —” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, _yes,_ it _is_ a little bit of a big deal.”

Guilt sank in his stomach like an anchor. “Sorry. That was stupid of me to say.”

Winry didn’t even respond to that, which made him feel worse.

The rain roared around them, drumming steadily against the leaves. The mist from the rain turned the air cool, raising goosebumps along his skin. The air felt colder, stiffer without any words floating between them, and Ed wanted to get rid of the guilt stewing his gut.

He shot a glance at Winry and saw her raise a hand to absentmindedly rub her bare arm. It really was cold out here, wasn’t it? He had no idea how she could wear her mechanic uniform in this weather.

Ed sighed and draped his jacket around her shoulders. She reached a hand up and tugged the jacket tighter around her shoulders but didn’t say anything.

He stewed in their silence for a few minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore. He hesitated, then tentatively reached out and brushed a wet strand of hair out of her face, letting his fingers trail down to trace the shell of her ear. As he brushed against the cold metal of her earrings, Winry’s eyes drifted closed.

“What are you doing?” She murmured.

“Just…” His hand drifted down to the metal stud in her left ear. “I’m sorry.”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry for being an insensitive dumbass.”

“Hm.”

He swallowed. “Next time, I will be faster when you tell me to hurry. And...I will be more mindful of my words and actions.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. Her skin was cool and damp against his mouth, and when he pulled away, she opened her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Winry huffed a laugh. “You better be.”

Ed slipped an arm around her shoulder and held her until the rain stopped.

* * *

Ed tore through another volume as he scribbled something messy onto the pages that were slowly spilling out of his notebook. The papers on the floor rustled with every movement and he supposed he should clean them up at some point, but the kids were out playing with the neighbors and Winry had gone into town again for more automail parts, so who was Ed to deny himself the freedom of doing research in his own home? He couldn’t just _ignore_ all that open, empty space in the kitchen, free for the studying.

So, Ed had pulled some textbooks out of his cramped study and hauled them to the kitchen. Then, he started flipping through his notes again from traveling west, trying to parse some sort of pattern or new theory from them. One thing had led to another and there was suddenly an array on the ground.

Chalk dust coated the palms of his hands all the way up to his forearms as he leaned over the kitchen floor to examine the transmutation circle for at least the fiftieth time. He wiped a line away from the inner circle, redrew it, then leaned back to examine his work.

The array was...certainly unlike anything he’d used before, but he still wanted to check his notes one more time.

He stood and brushed the chalk off his palms, raining white dust onto the wood. Maybe he shouldn’t be drawing arrays on the kitchen floor, but chalk was easy enough to remove from wood. So, theoretically, he could wash it off with just water before Winry came back, as long as he kept track of time.

He grabbed a notebook that was falling apart at the seams and started flipping through it. He scanned the familiar scrawl, trying to decipher his own handwriting, and noticed a shape scrawled in the corner. He squinted at it and then his heart jumped in his chest. There was some kind of pattern, if he kept looking through the other doodles he had left in his journal, maybe he could find— 

“Ed! I’m back!”

_Shit._

He hadn’t even heard the door open. He took one look around the kitchen, at the papers scattered across the table, at the chalk bits littering the ground, and the most damning of his crimes: the transmutation circle in the middle of the room.

There was no way he could clean this up in any kind of timely manner. So, he did what he could.

He dropped his notebook and raced to the front of the house. He caught Winry just as she was setting her bags down, and when he flung himself around the corner, she looked up.

“Oh, hi, Ed—”

He surged forward and grabbed the sides of her face before pulling her mouth up to meet his.

Winry let out a surprised gasp that echoed inside his mouth before she responded. She leaned into him, turning her head up to meet his lips better, but he could tell she was confused.

He didn’t know how frantic the kiss felt, but he kept pushing his face forward and tilting his mouth until he felt that surprise drain from her shoulders, half hopeful that if he distracted her long enough, she wouldn’t dent his skull with a wrench once she saw the state of the kitchen.

When he felt her sigh into his mouth, he pulled away.

“What was that for?” She asked, slightly breathless.

“I just—” Think Ed, _think_. “I just love my wife.” True, but not the reason he had kissed her.

He noted with relief that her cheeks started to redden, but when he slid his gaze up to her eyes, he saw them narrowing in suspicion.

Fuck. One more time then.

He tilted his head forward until their lips brushed. Winry let out a small sigh, a warm puff of air spilling across his chin before she leaned into him.

Her arms slid up and hooked around his neck, and when her mouth pressed closer, God did it take all his willpower not to let out an embarrassing sound. He let himself lean into her, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. He distantly let himself feel relieved that she was still responding. That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe if he kept kissing her, she wouldn’t be so mad about the kitchen.

Right. The kitchen.

He wanted to keep kissing her and prolong the inevitable, but he could feel the sunlight from outside biting softly into his skin as the sounds of birds and cicadas filtered into the house. The door was still open, and Winry was still half a step outside the house. He had to let her in at some point.

Ed reluctantly pulled away.

Her skin had gone warm under his hands, her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. He almost lost himself staring at her face, but when she opened her eyes, the blue of her gaze jolted his heart.

“Ed, what—”

“The kitchen is a mess,” he blurted. “I mean—I messed up the kitchen. But I’ll clean it up soon, I promise.”

Winry blinked, opened her mouth, closed her mouth, opened it again, closed it again, blinked. Flustered Winry was always a rare gift and adorable sight. He would have teased her about it if he didn’t feel like he was teetering on a dangerous line between getting hit with a wrench or not depending on what she did next.

When she didn’t respond right away, Ed started bracing himself for the wrench.

“I’ll help you.”

He blinked. “What.”

Winry slipped her hands from his neck and stepped into the house, pulling her bags inside.

“I’ll help you clean the kitchen,” she said, pulling the door closed.

“Wait, what?” His brain rebooted right as she started to move past him. Ed moved in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders to stop her. “Nonono you don’t have to.” He swallowed. “I made the mess, so I don’t want to make you—you know…” Also, he didn’t want her to see the array he had drawn into the wood. He was that afraid no amount of kissing her would save him from the disaster that had flown through the kitchen.

She batted his hands away, and when she shot him an irritated look, his life flashed before his eyes. But then, she said, “That’s fine. I haven’t seen you all day, so I’d like to spend some time with you.”

“Wait—” He felt his face flare with heat and something like amusement flashed across her face. Was she doing that on purpose?

But then, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t give me that look—”

Before she could finish, Ed pulled her close and kissed her one more time. Just because he wanted to.

* * *

Ed’s leg had been feeling stiff for a while now.

He’d admit, he wasn’t that great at maintaining his automail. Even living with Winry—who bothered him about it every chance she got—he still just...forgot sometimes. Maybe the risk of incurring her wrath should have been a good motivator, but the fact that he was married to his mechanic meant she could fix his leg anytime.

Still, even with his knee becoming increasingly hard to bend, he couldn’t find it in himself to do something about it. He still accidentally banged his leg against the walls when he wandered around in the dark after studying, he bought cheaper oil for his leg because he didn’t want to take any of the stuff Winry used for her clients, and he still played in the dirt and the mud with Milo, which was two offenses piled on top of each other.

He knew he probably made a mistake again playing with Milo outside so close to dinner time. But this time, when he saw the lights flicker on in the kitchen, he knew better and he grabbed Milo before racing into the house.

He dashed up the stairs before Winry could see and managed to wash some of the dirt off his leg before he dunked Milo in the bath. In his haste, he could still feel water dripping down his leg even while he was scrubbing Milo’s hair, but that wasn’t important right now.

What _was_ important was that after frantically toweling off Milo and rushing his son into clean clothes, he bent down to slide Milo’s socks on when his knee joint caught.

_Shit._

“Daddy?”

“Nothing!” Ed exhaled slowly and tried straightening his leg, sighing in relief when he found that it could still move. Maybe it was just a one off thing. “I’m fine,” he said, pulling Milo’s other sock on. “Let’s get back to the kitchen before Mommy notices we were gone.” 

Milo beamed. “Okay!”

Ed slowly rose to his feet, giving his leg space to extend properly. Then, he tried not to limp as he led Milo back to the kitchen.

Winry was at the stove when they arrived, and she turned as they entered the room.

She watched them move to the table and furrowed her brows. “Weren’t you just outside?”

Ed helped Milo into his chair and then hurried over to slide an arm around her waist before pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “We just came back in a few minutes ago, you didn’t see?”

Her eyes slid to Milo. Their son was wearing a different shirt than the one he had gone outside in and his hair was definitely still damp, but Winry just pursed her lips, slipped out of his grasp, and said nothing else.

Success!

Ed grinned and went to help her bring the food to the table. He grabbed a plate off the counter and turned to head back when his knee joint caught again. He yelped, but managed to stay upright before he stumbled into the ground.

“Ed, are you okay?” Winry asked.

He straightened as quickly as he could without giving away his leg. “Yep! Fine. Nothing is wrong at all.” 

She shot him a curious look and then shrugged. “Alright, if you say so.” Winry turned off the stove as Ed limped as subtly as possible back to the kitchen table.

He managed to help Winry bring the rest of the food to the table without her noticing his limp. He bit back a sigh of relief as he slid into his seat, glad that he was done with walking for now. Across the table, Nina babbled in her high chair, looking curiously at the food. She gripped a stuffed lion in her tiny fist and started to bring it to her mouth.

“Hungry, Nina?” Winry smiled, pushing the lion down before bringing a spoon of mush to her mouth. 

Ed tried not to look so stupidly lovesick as he watched them. When Winry caught his eye, he scrambled to look elsewhere, but he didn’t miss the amused grin she shot him.

His face heated, but he hid it behind his hand as he brought the spoon to his mouth.

“How was your day?” She asked.

“Fine,” he said. “Yours?”

“Good. Productive.” Winry grabbed a napkin and wiped the corner of Nina’s mouth. “How’s your leg doing?”

He almost choked on his soup. “W-why do you ask?”

She shot him a curious look. Did that mean she knew? Did that mean she didn’t know? “Just wondering if it needed to be readjusted soon or anything.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said a little too quickly. “The leg is fine and mobile. It doesn’t need readjusting.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Okay…” She fed Nina another spoonful of mush. “Just...let me know.”

“Right. Yep. I will do that.”

He was being too obvious. And Winry either didn’t notice or didn’t care, but Ed still ran a hand over his automail knee, worried. 

The rest of dinner was uneventful. Ed had to force vegetables onto Milo’s plate while Nina accidentally dribbled food onto Winry’s hand. A typical dinner, and when they were finished, Winry rose from her chair and reached for a plate. She paused, blinked at the table, and rubbed her eye wearily before picking up the dishes and moving them to the sink.

“I’ll go put the kids to bed,” he said.

A relieved smile split her face. “Thank you.”

Something warm unfurled in his chest. “Yeah. Of course.”

He hoisted Nina up into his arms and then held out another hand to Milo to lead him out of the kitchen. As they headed up the stairs, the sounds of dishes clanking against the metal of the sink followed them.

He brought Milo into his room and helped him into his pajamas. As he leaned over to tuck his son into bed, Nina grasped the shoulder of his shirt.

“Goodnight, Milo,” said Ed. “Say goodnight to Milo, Nina.”

Nina gurgled into his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Daddy.” Milo shot him a toothy grin. “Goodnight Nina.”

Ed ruffled his hair and returned his smile before leaving the room. He walked down the hall to Nina’s room and flipped on the lights.

He turned his head slightly. “Ready for bed?” He asked her.

Nina blinked her wide blue eyes at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He bounced her up and down as he moved to her crib, and when he went to lay her down, she let out a sudden cry of protest.

“Oh God.” He panicked and lifted her out of the crib. “What’s wrong?”

She quieted down immediately and blinked at him.

He raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously, leaning down to place her back in the crib when he saw her face start to scrunch up in the beginnings of another cry.

Ed straightened and her face returned to normal.

“You don’t want to go to bed?”

Nina gurgled at him.

God, she was adorable.

But she had to go to bed.

“Nina, I love you, you’re adorable.” He held her up to look her directly in the eyes. “But you need to go to sleep.”

Her face scrunched up in the beginnings of a tantrum.

“Nononono don’t do that—” He brought Nina to his chest and started bouncing up and down, hoping the motion would rock her to sleep. His leg certainly didn’t like that, though, and as he continued, he found it harder and harder to bend his knee, but he pressed on. He had to at least until she fell asleep.

Even as he could start to feel his knee creaking, Ed began to move slowly around the room, whispering an old mumbled lullaby in her ear until her breathing evened out. He held out for another note before walking back to the crib. He leaned over and carefully peeled her off his chest before laying her down.

When he pulled away, Nina curled her tiny fists into herself. Ed watched her sleep for a few moments before he reached down and tapped a finger lightly against her cheek.

Ed still couldn’t believe that this was his _daughter._ He had children— _two_ of them. He was a father. He had a _family,_ and he couldn’t believe he had gotten to this point, that he’d lived and survived to this point where all he had to worry about was getting his infant daughter to sleep.

Sometimes he missed his alchemy, the simplicity of clapping his hands together to repair something with ease, of pulling weapons from the ground and the light that burst from his palms. Alchemy had been a big part of his life and there was a certain ache to it no longer being there. But then he thought about the feeling of skin on skin of his fingertips on opposite hands touching together, Al finally basking in the warmth of the sun and making his way through the list of things he wanted to eat when he got his body back, Winry standing in the kitchen with warm yellow light spreading thinly through the room, the sound of laughter erupting from Milo’s throat, Nino opening her blue eyes for the first time to blink curiously at the new world, and then he thought about how he would trade alchemy a thousand times over because there was no treasure greater than this future to meet the laws of equivalent exchange.

Nina turned into his finger and warmth spread through his chest.

He stayed still for a moment, watching her breath in and out before he pulled his hand away. He should see if Winry still needed help in the kitchen.

He limped quietly toward the door, desperately trying to ignore how stiff his knee felt, and turned off the lights. He could barely bend his leg an inch now, but he tried not to think about that as he hobbled down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“That took a while,” noted Winry from the sink. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Yeah, Nina was being a little fussier than usual,” said Ed. “No idea why though—”

He scanned the kitchen floor until his eyes caught on a small stuffed lion laying like a fallen beast at the food of her highchair. 

“Ah,” said Ed, moving toward the table. “That makes sense.”

He leaned down to pick it up and froze. Cold realization prickled on the back of his neck when he realized he couldn’t bend his knee at all.

“What makes sense?”

Ed snatched the lion off the ground and quickly straightened.

“Uh, Nina dropped her lion on the ground. Probably couldn’t sleep without it, but I managed to get her to bed.”

“Oh, okay.” She still hadn’t looked at him, occupied by washing the dishes.

Ed slid his gaze to the contents of the sink—just one plate left in there, not much time left until she finished and then she would look up and see the stiffness of his knee and the way he had to limp to move around.

Well, he always had his secret weapon.

He hobbled quietly over to Winry and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder so their heads bumped together.

“Hi,” he said.

Winry sighed, which was...unexpected. “What did you do this time?”

Ed almost flinched. “...what do you mean?”

“You get more affectionate when you mess something up.” She grabbed the last plate and ran it under the water. “So, what did you do?”

Crap, so she _had_ noticed.

He lifted his chin and leaned back, affronted. “Hey! I’m affectionate even when I didn’t do anything wrong.”

He could practically feel her rolling her eyes. “I know you are. But you think I didn’t notice how you were acting when we got caught in the rain last week? Or when you drew an array on the kitchen floor?”

“I—” He floundered. “That wasn’t—”

“I noticed what you and Al were doing with the earrings when we were younger,” said Winry. And he did _not_ expect that. “I’m just surprised you didn’t try anything like that sooner. So.” She turned her head slightly until he could see her eyes narrow in exasperation. “What did you do?”

He would have glared at her if their faces weren’t right next to each other. So instead, he sighed and pressed his face into the space where her shoulder met her neck.

Of course Winry would figure him out. She saw through nearly everything he did.

“My leg is a little stiff," he admitted.

“A little stiff?”

“I can’t move it,” he amended.

“And how did that happen?” She spoke slowly, goading him. She was patronizing him and he couldn’t even be mad about it.

“I...haven’t been taking care of my leg as well as I should have.”

She said nothing.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into her skin.

He thought he felt her shiver, but before he could think about it, Winry set the last plate aside and turned around.

 _Here it comes,_ he thought. Her toolbox wasn’t even nearby, but Ed still braced himself for a wrench to bury itself into his skull when a soft pair of lips pressed briefly to his instead.

Winry pulled away before he could even blink. “Come on,” she said. “Let me take a look at it.”

“Huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to look at your leg, Ed.”

“But, aren’t you mad?”

She sighed. “I’m annoyed that my stupid husband still won’t take care of his automail, but no, I’m not mad.” She stepped out of his grasp and slid her arm across his back, pulling his other arm around her shoulder. “Let me help you get to the workshop.”

“It’s fine, I can still walk,” said Ed, even as they started moving.

“Just let me help you.”

He was silent for a moment before he said, “So you picked up on it? What Al and I were doing with the earrings?”

“Yeah, I mean it was pretty obvious.”

“Wait,” he whirled on her. “Why’d you keep letting us buy you earrings, then?”

“I mean, even if they were bribes, they were still gifts from you guys so I wouldn’t say no to them.” Winry snorted. “And also, I wasn’t going to turn down _free earrings.”_

“You crafty bastard—”

“Says the one who used earrings as _bribes_ , even though it was completely your fault that you kept wrecking your automail.”

Ed grumbled. “So...was me being more affectionate also ‘pretty obvious?’”

“More so than the earrings.”

“Then why did you keep letting me do it?” He cried, indignant.

Winry took one look at his face and sighed. “Like I said, even if those were basically bribes, it’s not like I don’t like you being affectionate.”

He huffed as they entered the workshop.

Winry sat him down at the couch and propped his leg up with a stool. She went to grab her toolbox and when she walked back over, she knelt down to the left of his metal leg and tapped his thigh. “Let me know if anything hurts.”

Ed grunted.

Winry lifted her wrench, then paused. “Hey, are you mad?”

“No.”

There was a pause. Then, the corner of her mouth curled up in amusement. “Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

When her smile curved higher, he turned to look at a spot on the wall.

“Aw, don’t be mad, Ed.” He felt her prop her elbows up on his thigh until she was leaning against his leg. “Edward.”

“What.” He turned to look at her and the amusement sparkling in her eyes stopped him short.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

Her smile widened.

“I’m not—”

She leaned forward and kissed him.

The fact that she was grinning into his mouth made his mind go fuzzy. He clenched his hands into fists, forcing them to stay still on the couch, but then she ran a hand through his hair and it took all his willpower not to lean toward her. Her other hand had come up at some point to drape around his shoulder. When had she put the wrench down?

When she pulled away, she was laughing.

“You can’t—you can’t use my own trick against me!” He sputtered.

“Why not?”

“B-Because!” Her face was distractingly close and he couldn’t tell if the heat on his face was from the blood rushing to it or her proximity.

She grinned. “Is it working?” 

_“No.”_

“I’m sorry for making you mad,” she said in a way that did not sound sorry at all. “I’ll stop doing it if it’ll make you feel better.”

Ed clamped his mouth shut.

She looked at him expectantly. “Talk to me. Are you still mad?”

“...maybe.”

Her laugh rang clear in his ears like music. Her eyes lit with humor, and when she leaned in again, she kissed him with the surety of someone who knew they’d already been forgiven long ago.

**Author's Note:**

> HHHHHHHHHHH HI SORRY FOR THE STUPID TITLE IM LITERALLY SO BAD AT COMING UP WITH TITLES ALJDAKJSDF
> 
> anyway, alternative title is: me wanting an excuse to write edwin kissing and accidentally writing 7k words for it. im being completely serious when i say this is the first time i've ever written a semi detailed kiss so i hope they werent too bad akjdfhasdf. and by semi detailed, i mean me actually having to describe it for longer than a sentence instead of cheating and having the fic fade immediately to black (like my last edwin fic haha). anyway, apologies for any typos, i will probably come back in a few days to obsessively reread my own fic and they will be fixed then. ive honestly spent too many hours editing this fic so i just wanted it to be out there in the world now
> 
> thank you so much for reading! and if you want, come bother me on [tumblr](https://bringingglory.tumblr.com/)!


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